


Calm(ish) Winter

by Baozhale



Series: Tamora Pierce BINGO 2013 [8]
Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce, PIERCE Tamora - Works
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:48:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baozhale/pseuds/Baozhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's winter. It's mostly calm. Briar is sick of making salves and medicines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calm(ish) Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Rustling prompt for BINGO.  
> Lark/Rosethorn is really only hinted at, but yes, they are together.

Sandry loved the cool winter evenings with her siblings, Lark, and Rosethorn around the hearth at Discipline cottage. At least, her siblings would all be there if there were no storm. On stormy evenings, Tris spent every free moment on the temple walls, immersed in the winds. The wall guards mostly accepted her, now, so long as she remembered the token that meant she was free to roam. She spent more time on that wall than any but the actual guards. Tonight, however, there was no storm, so Tris was inside. It was calm, approximately. Tris was reading (Tris was  _always_ reading), Daja was braiding wires for her latest project with Frostpine, and Briar was complaining about making yet  _more_  salve. Rosethorn said nothing, which may have had more to do with the labor speaking still was for her than with lack of things to say. It was hard to know- she looked either sympathetic to Briar or sick of salve herself. Not that the two were mutually exclusive, now that Sandry thought about it.

 _No, they're not mutually exclusive at all,_  Daja pointed out.

 _The second would be the reason for the first, wouldn't it_? Tris added.

 _THERE IS SO MUCH SALVE. I SWEAR I WILL DROWN IN IT._ That would be Briar. The complaint was almost new.

Salve had been the task of the night (and day) for  _far_  too long, just as bandages had: tonight was a rare break for Sandry, and she made sure to enjoy the quiet rustling of her embroidery silks while she could. She knew that the next few months would be almost exclusively lessons and bandages, just like the last few months had been.

Lark took no such break, sitting next to Rosethorn with her folding loom, making yet more bandages. The temple supplies of bandages, salves, and medicines had not been fully replenished before the epidemic, and the blue pox only served to further deplete the supplies. Winding Circle was in serious need of time without disasters, and thankfully the winter was providing it.

 _Everything smells like salve,_  Briar repeated his usual complaint for probably the tenth time that night. 

 _Better salve than smoke and boom-stones_ , Tris thought without looking up from her book. They'd had this conversation  _many_  times this winter, and it wasn't even the first time of the night.

 _So? That doesn't mean I can't be sick of it,_  Briar insisted.  _Which I am, in case you didn't know. Did I mention that everything smells of it?_

 _Many times_ , Sandry pointed out.

 _Too many_ , Tris added.  _I would think a former street rat could be more creative with his complaints._

 _I'll have you know that I-_ Briar started.

 _How many times do you need to have this_ exact _conversation?_  Daja cut him off.  _And do you have to have it in all our heads?_

“This better?” Briar drawled. “Wouldn't want to deprive our teachers of our lovely talk, would we? And of my oh so creative complaints, Tris?”

Tris looked up from her book just long enough to stick her tongue out at her brother.

Rosethorn grabbed Briar's arm and spoke through his magic.  _If you're just going to complain, deprive away._

Briar passed the message on to his siblings silently. Daja sighed.  _Well, I don't want to hear it either._

 

All was silent again, except for the rustling of silk and of pages turning.  


End file.
